The Lights in The Bay
by broken clavicle
Summary: Restaurants and fist fights and blogging, oh my! Or, that time Gamagoori owned a restaurant and Mako was a food blogger. -IraMako AU.
1. start softly

**disclaimer: **I don't own it. That simple.  
**notes: **screeches, because I just can't with this ship (or, y'know, OTP: Please wear pajamas).  
**notes2: **AU; Ages have been adjusted for the obvious reasons.

**title: **start softly.  
**summary:** Restaurants and fist fights and blogging, oh my! Or, that time Gamagoori owned a restaurant and Mako was a food blogger. -IraMako AU.

* * *

Mako pushed the _post _button with a grin and a click of the mouse, leaning back into her chair. She was still full from the rather large meal she had had not an hour ago, having wanted to eat one of everything on the menu and having to settle for less. It wasn't exactly _smart_ of her to have one of everything on the menu, anyway, since she would have to write six times as much for a blog post than normal.

And if there was one thing Mako Mankanshoku didn't like, it was writing more than she absolutely had to. Especially since writing about food made her hungry again, and then she would have to rummage around in her shared kitchen to find something decent to eat, which would probably pale in comparison to whatever it was she had just been writing about.

She was feeling a little peckish, though.

"Ryuko-chan!" she trilled, standing up and wandering into the narrow hall. Other than the peeling white paint and the mostly dead plant sitting on a small stand, the hall was empty. Across from Mako's room, Ryuko's door was wide open, revealing her mostly clean room and somewhat made bed. It was practically spotless compared to Mako's, which looked like it had been struck by a tornado at least eight times.

"Ryuko-chan!" she called again, heading off down the hall, subconsciously sidestepping the plant where it teetered precariously close to the edge of it's stand. Her best friend, room mate, and sisterly accomplice had to be around here _somewhere—_it wasn't like their apartment was big enough to get lost in with it's two small rooms, cramped bathroom, tiny living room and miniscule kitchen. Between the money Mako made from her blog and the money Ryuko won in competition, it was likely that they could have afforded a larger and nicer apartment between the two of them, but this one felt like home.

The hall let her out into their small living room, equipped with a banged up coffee table covered in old magazines, an old television sitting on a rickety stool, and a worn out couch whose color might have once been eggplant—it was hard to tell now, since it looked more like a weird, blue-gray. It was hard to tell where the living room ended and the kitchen began, though the two young woman typically marked it at about dead center of the card table they called a dining room table, equipped with it's four mismatched chairs in varying states of abuse.

The kitchen was in the same state as the rest of the apartment, fitted with chipped counters and a small refrigerator covered in almost expired coupons, forgotten shopping lists, and many photo strips of herself and Ryuko from various photo booths around the city. The oven, however, was brand new, though the lime-green tea kettle that sat atop it was missing large chips of paint and part of it's handle.

Ryuko sat at the card table in one of the better chairs, chin in her hand and elbow propped on the table. A yellow-green bruise was barely noticeable on her right cheek bone, a testament to a bar fight she had gotten in a few weeks prior. A newspaper was folded in front of her on the rickety table, her blue eyes unfocused on the front of it.

"Ryuko-chan!" Mako exclaimed happily, sitting down in the chair across from her roommate. Said chair creaked the moment Mako put even the smallest amount of her weight into it, and it wobbled dangerously as she scooted it closer to the table, putting herself in full sight of her best friend. "I finished my post!"

Ryuko blinked and shook her head as if she were coming out of a stupor, looking up from the newspaper—the morning edition of that very day, in fact—and at her room mate. "From the place we ate at tonight?"

"Of course!" Whenever Mako went out for dinner to update her food blog—which was at least twice a week, no matter the weather or the funds or even if she had eaten there before—she always took Ryuko with her. In her opinion, food tasted much better with friends and family around, and Ryuko easily fell into both categories.

Just then, the faucet in the kitchen sprang leak, the steady _drip-drip _of water that had existed for who knew how long becoming an uninterrupted stream.

The two of them heaved a sigh together.

"We're going to have to fix that," Ryuko said wistfully, pushing the newspaper aside and looking up at the ceiling. "This place is a dump."

Mako laughed, lightening the mood immediately. "So what if it's a dump?"

It was _home_ and even if it didn't look like it, Ryuko Matoi and Mako Mankanshoku made up one fully functioning adult between the two of them.

* * *

Fixing the faucet was an adventure in itself.

The two of them could have called the repairman to come and fix it for them, but he was lazy and almost never there and wasn't much of a repairman to begin with. And it wasn't like either of them knew a guy who knew how to do any kind of repairs, either—their landlord was useless and would just tell them to call the building specified repairman.

It was a vicious circle, which was why Mako and Ryuko took it upon themselves to fix their broken faucet. It was _theirs_, after all, and they still had the tools they had collected when they had taken it upon themselves to fix their broken toilet (which was a very, very long story meant for a different day).

"Isn't that part supposed to"-

"Maybe we should-"

"ACK! I thought you said you shut the water off!"

There was a clatter of a screwdriver being dropped, a rush for towels, triple checking to make sure they actually had the water _turned off_ for real. And then Mako and Ryuko were back at it again, Ryuko dealing with the tools and the physical aspects, upper half of her body shoved up under the sink, legs splayed out across the worn, peeling kitchen tile, and Mako shouting out instructions, flashlight in one hand and phone in the other, web browser open to a WikiHow about fixing a leaky faucet.

Between the two of them, they were certain they could easily accomplish anything.

* * *

**notes3: **I have only a semblance of an idea as to where this could possibly be going.  
**notes4: **Tell me what you think? Please? There's a cute little box down there that really, really likes to eat words and spit them back out in my inbox.


	2. go lightly

**disclaimer: **disclaimed.  
**notes: **omfg Ryuko/Mako are like my BROtp, no joke.  
**notes2: **You guys are so lovely! I didn't expect to get such positive feedback, like oh my gosh? also, **_spoilers _**below if you haven't seen 18/19, 'kay?  
**edit: **thanks to Ashcroft II, the spelling of Satsuki's and Ragyo's last name has been redone-thank you for pointing that out!

**title:** go lightly.

* * *

Her zipper was stuck.

Not the _tug a little and it gives and zips_ kind of stuck, but the _I need pliers and a stick of dynamite_ kind of stuck. The kind of stuck that made one think they were never going to wear that article of clothing again, let alone get off of because it's stuck right _there_, where it matters the most, where the material decides to become tight and form hugging and nearly impossible to get off without unzipping it.

"Ryuko-chan!" Mako wailed, arms bent behind her back at an awkward angle, fingers grasping at the offending zipper and the light blue material around it. She squirmed, still tugging lightly on the zipper, making a high pitched noise in the back of her throat when she realized for the thousandth time that her zipper wasn't going to move.

Ryuko appeared in the doorway of Mako's room, inky hair a mess, streak of red falling into her blue eyes. The bruise on her cheekbone had faded a little more, barely noticeable unless one was up close and looking for it. She wore a black dress that clung to her like a second skin, the sleeves long and the skirt short. She had a red and yellow scarf wrapped around her neck and draped over her shoulders, both ends falling down around her waist.

"My zipper's stuck!" Mako cried upon seeing her roommate, turning around to show her—_see? _Ryuko crossed the threshold immediately, stepping over rumpled up piles of clothes and discarded shoes, more than aware of how much of a hazard zone her friend's room posed.

Ryuko pried Mako's fingers off of the zipper and the fabric with ease, gathering up a bit of the fabric surrounding the zipper in her own slender ones, gripping the zipper tight.

Mako yelped when Ryuko's cold fingers brushed against her spine, unprepared for the sudden contact. She leaped forward out of instinct, though Ryuko's grip on her dress stopped her from going anywhere.

After a few seconds and false starts, the zipper made it's way to the top of her dress mostly unimpeded.

Mako huffed and turned around with a, "Thank you, Ryuko-chan!"

Ryuko simply smirked at her. "Are we going to go to dinner or what?"

* * *

There was only one rule when it came to Mako and her food blogging:

You weren't allowed to eat the same thing twice until you had gone through _everything_ on the menu. After she had done that, then she would ask the waiters for their recommendations. There were a large number of restaurants in Honnoji City and Mako had eaten at most of them at least once, Ryuko in tow.

That night wasn't any different—the duo walked down the sidewalk from the railway station in the light of the street lamps, spirits high. The sound of Mako's stiletto's on the concrete and the beaming grin on her face was enough to infect everyone the duo passed.

The night came with a clear sky and the buildings launching like teeth into the night, lights from the street lamps and corner bars and the bay blotting out the stars until they were long gone memories, lost with the imprint the halogen lights left behind Mako's eyelids. The people around her were just silhouettes, blurry shadows that passed in her peripheral, out of her own little world.

Ryuko walked beside her at a slightly slower pace, clutch in her hands and half a smirk on her face. She wore a light jacket over her dress and, unlike Mako in her sky high stiletto's, she had picked something much more practical—boots, with only a slight heel. Much more practical, Mako knew, and also much more suitable for Ryuko.

Sounds of others laughing and enjoying themselves drifted out of the various buildings they passed, accompanied by the smell of good food and strong booze. Mako's mouth was going at a thousand miles per second, talking about everything and nothing all at once, chattering nonsensically to Ryuko, who simply half- smiled at her best friend and kept walking.

It was eleven and a half blocks to their final destination, and that was even after taking the subway to get to the nearest station. Mako's feet were sure to be killing her in the morning, but the prospect of some good food and a meal with her best friend eclipsed her potential pain.

"Where is it we're going?" Ryuko finally asked; the duo were only a handful of feet away from the corner Mako knew they needed to turn on.

Mako rounded the corner and waved down the street, motioning to a restaurant that was just in the middle of the block. She had made their reservations weeks ago for the nearest possible date and had been dismayed to find that said restaurant was chock full of reservations.

"Over there!" she announced easily, the name of their destination momentarily escaping her memory. The lights from their intended restaurant lit up the middle of the block, spilling gold onto the pavement and casting shadows on the passerby. Mako couldn't wait to sit down—why had she worn those heels again?

Oh, right—because they made her much taller than she really was, which was always a good benefit.

Strutting purposely down the street, the duo made it to the front door in no time, Mako only a few inches ahead of Ryuko in her excitement. A patron who had already had their meal held one of the large glass doors open for the pair of them, Mako bouncing past them with a, "Thank you!", Ryuko close behind.

It was warmer inside of the building than it was out on the streets, some of the cool air from outside following them in. The light was soft, and the steady hush of voices hit Mako's ears for a moment before they faded into a steady hum in the background, layered in with the quiet music playing over the loudspeakers.

From what Mako could see of the place, it was spacious and airy, though most of the tables looked like they were taken. Waitresses were slipping between tables gracefully, trays balanced precariously in their hands, plates filled with food.

She herself wouldn't make a good waitress—not in a million years. She was too clumsy and got overly excited about the smallest things. She was fully aware of the fact that she would drop a tray the second it was placed in her hands, trip over the legs of the chairs, and spill food all over paying customers on accident.

Waitressing was definitely a no-go for her.

Mako glided right up to the host at his podium, Ryuko following. "Two for Mankanshoku, please!" she announced, grinning. The host glanced down at his list of reservations for a moment before looking back up at her.

"Mako Mankanshoku, correct?" he asked for clarification.

"Yep!"

The host picked up two menus. "Right this way, then."

* * *

"This looks like the kind of place my mother would eat at," Ryuko stated disdainfully once they were seated, menus in hand and red wine in their glasses. A frown tugged at Mako's lips at her friend's statement, but she didn't say anything. She was fully aware of how much of a touchy subject Ryuko's family was for her.

The fact of the matter was, Ryuko Matoi and Ragyo Kiryuuin did not get along _at all_. Mako didn't know the entire story behind Ryuko's dislike for her relatives, but she was more than aware of the fact that it existed in a great amount. She didn't want to press her best friend for any kind of information when it came to the nonexistent relationship with her family, but she couldn't help but wonder.

Of course, according to the rumors, Ryuko's sister Satsuki Kiryuuin also held no love for their mother, going so far as to launch a rival clothing company.

If that wasn't a declaration of war, Mako wasn't sure what was.

"I didn't see her when we came in," Mako said, looking at her friend over the top of her menu. "And I doubt she'd come to a crowded restaurant to eat—wouldn't she just reserve the whole place and call it good?"

"Likely," Ryuko scoffed, fingers tightening on the sides of her menu. Mako smiled at her apologetically before looking down.

She had a very, very important decision to make:

_What was she going to eat?_

All of her attention focused on her menu, she failed to notice the way Ryuko stiffened up across the table from her, every nerve in her body taught, jaw clenched.

"Everything sounds so good," Mako said, eyes fluttering over the menu. "'Specially the fish. I think I'll have the fish. What are you going to have, Ryuko-chan?"

After a moment of silence from her best friend, Mako finally looked up. "Eh, Ryuko-chan?"

The look of rage on Ryuko's face was unmistakable, though Mako wasn't quite sure why it was there. "Ryuko-chan, what's-"

Before Mako could finish her sentence, Ryuko lurched to her feet, sending her chair tipping backward and falling to the ground. "Satsuki Kiryuuin!"

Mako's head whipped around to the direction Ryuko was pointing in, looking over her shoulder.

And then everything went to hell.

* * *

**notes3: **I, uh, changed some things for this? (it's an AU, duh)  
**notes4: **reviews are glory filled things that I really, really like getting.


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